


Catholic Girl

by happymartyr



Series: Unlikely: The Big Picture [2]
Category: Original Work, Unlikely - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Catholicism, Comedic tones, F/F, Panic Attacks, Religion, Some Humor, Some comedy, Suicidal Thoughts, i'm doing research but i don't know if i'm getting the full picture, please tell me in the comments if anything is wrong, probably inaccurate catholicism, so i'm sorry if anything is off, very heavy use of religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-20 18:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14899770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happymartyr/pseuds/happymartyr
Summary: Holland ought to live a perfect life, shouldn't she?She shouldn't want to throw it all away. She shouldn't be finding herself at the top of an apartment building with a note crumpled in her hand. She shouldn't have her dirty little secret, a notebook filled with incoherent words and scribbles that look violent and almost demonic.There's something missing in her life.Is she too far gone to realize when that something is standing right on her doorstep?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> remember Holland and Rory from Unlikely? this is their story.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl named Holland Auber. She lives a perfectly fine life with a perfectly fine family in a perfectly fine house. She’s content with doing her schoolwork and saying her prayers and tucking her annoyingly long hair behind her ears, because why wouldn’t she? There’s nothing in her life to be upset about.

So why is she here?

Why is she here, rocking back and forth on the disgusting, filthy, horrid bathroom floor, tugging at her smooth hair and desperately trying to control her breathing? Why is she trying hard to muffle her quiet whines and sobs in case someone walks in? And why is she, a mere elementary schooler in what should be the safest place for her, scared half to death?

Well, she supposes it doesn’t matter why. It’s just happening, and she has to find a way out of it. She stills herself, pressing her back against the stall and planting her feet on the floor. Her body is buzzing and she’s trying to calm down her breathing, just calm down, calm down, calm down before you--

That was the first day she fainted. Her parents thought the solutions was more prayer. No therapist, no medication, just more prayer. More faith. And it worked, for a little while.

Until it actually _needed_ to work.

She survives anyway, somehow. She has breakdowns at least three times a month, but she’s still alive. Her hair is growing thinner, but she’s still alive. There are bags under her eyes and her hands shake quite a lot, but she’s still alive.

Until freshman year. May of freshman year, and she was nearly done with school. Well- that wasn’t true, as her parents would simply enroll her in some sort of educational religious camp over the summer to keep her mind occupied- but done with report cards and essays, at least. She’s nearly done with the most stressful part of her life, but that isn’t enough to hold her. It’s not enough to keep her from walking all the way downtown and climbing twenty flights of stairs to the roof of a building.

She knows what happens if you take your own life. She knows that you go to Hell and get tortured for eternity and then some, but she still finds herself here.

The top of an apartment building, with her shoes sitting several feet behind her, a small piece of paper crumpled in her hand and her rosary wrapped tightly around her right fist. She stands for hours. She stares down at the people passing by beneath her, going about their daily lives. She envies them. She envies them so, so much. Even though she knows she’s alone, it feels like there a million eyes staring at her, watching her every movement, watching her shoulders rise and fall shakily with every breath. In the end, that’s what pulls her away from the edge. The eyes pull her away; not because she was being watched, but because she knew who was watching her. 

And she couldn’t bear to disappoint Him.

So, Holland went home. She went home to her mother and her father who were worried sick, working themselves into a panic comparable to those that Holland herself fought off every day. Her parents hugged her so tight that she wasn’t sure if her ribs would survive. Holland simply told them that she got lost, and had ended up in the wrong part of town. That had freaked out her parents even more, but it was miles better than the truth.

She eats her dinner, goes to her room, does her homework, and sits down on her bed. Her thoughts are in utter turmoil, and drowning them out with prayer isn’t working. So, she grabs an empty notebook from her bookcase and writes down every single thought that forces itself into her head. She presses the pen down so hard that it threatens to tear the page- and it does, several times. Once she’s done, she’s got five pages of nearly illegible scribbles, putting on display all of her fear and her worries and her chaos. She looks down at the page and feels fear. It’s not something that a girl like her should write.

No, she decides. No, a girl like her should not produce something so disorderly and chaotic. No, a girl like her should not sit down on a bathroom floor in her nice skirt. No, a girl like her should not stand at the top of an apartment building with her shoes off. So she won’t. She absolutely will not. The mess on the page she just created looks almost demonic-- maybe her mind is warping it, but she doesn’t care. She closes the notebook and throws it across the room, immediately regretting her actions and getting up to place it neatly under her bed. She kneels next to her bed and prays fervently before getting into bed and failing to fall asleep for the next six hours.

 

Holland can’t help but return to the notebook not three days later. She knocks her head against the wooden floor desperately trying to fish the notebook out from beneath her bed, a pen clutched tightly in her left hand. She finally yanks it out of the darkness, and adds six pages to the growing collection of violent, manic scribbles that barely form words. Once she’s done, her body is drained of energy and her mind is finally moving at a normal pace. She sleepily does her homework and fumbles through her prayers, falling into bed and sleeping easily.

From then on, the notebook rarely ever leaves her side.


	2. Chapter 2

Aurora Martinez.

It couldn’t be less fitting, really. A beautiful, elegant, long and flowy name. _Aurora_ has never even met someone with the same name as her. She’s only heard of Sleeping Beauty, who she certainly doesn’t want to follow after in terms of life stories. Nothing about her name really suits her, which is why she goes by Rory. Short and abrasive, like her. Every time there’s a substitute teacher who calls out Rory’s full name, her classmates giggle, and she can’t help but laugh along with them. That’s one thing she’s always been proud of; laughing everything off.

There are several things that Rory can’t laugh off, however. 

When Rory sees that one goodie-two-shoes Catholic girl walking up to the roof of Rory’s apartment building- which someone like her has no business doing- she can’t help but grow curious. She sits and thinks about it, playing on her Gameboy until the curiosity eats away too much. Her mind had jumped to the worst possible outcome and she jumps up, marching over to the door and opening it to hear soft footsteps walking back down the stairs. She closes the door quickly and listens as the steps pass her door and continue downwards. Rory sighs quietly and goes back to her room, relieved that at least the girl had come back down.

Rory’s mind can’t just let her calm down and forget about it or try to find an excuse for why some random kid was on the roof of a however-many-stories-tall apartment building though, no no no. Instead. Rory comes up with a plan to find the girl tomorrow at school and talk to her. Now she’s determined. She devises her plan throughout dinner and doesn’t bother doing her homework. It’s basically summer anyway.

 

Rory sticks to her word. The next day, she wears a rather non-threatening outfit and sweeps her fringe out of her eyes. Her hair had been cut short recently, and she was still getting used to the way the loose curls would fall right into her face and over her eyes. Frustrated, she resigns to tying it into a little unicorn horn and hiding that with a beanie. She glances in the mirror and grins at her reflection before heading out.

As she’s walking through the halls, she spots the shy Catholic girl. She’s wearing a cream-colored sweater and a dusty rose pink skirt that goes a little past her knees. Her hair is in a neat little bun and her shoes are akin to those that a kindergartener would wear to a fancy birthday party.

_Start slow, don't scare her off,_ Rory tells herself as she sees the girl walking past.

“Hi!” Well. That was a bit louder than Rory had intended.

_Nevermind, I guess._

The girl turns, surprised to see Rory looking at her with a bright smile on her face. Someone pushes past Rory and she laughs, walking over to the side of the hallway and gesturing for the other girl to follow. The girl does, standing stiffly next to Rory who’s leaning casually on the wall.

“I’m Rory,” Rory says, sticking out her hand. Handshakes are absolutely outdated, but she figures that it might not be too foreign to this oddly formal girl.

Looks like she was wrong. The other girl looks down at Rory’s hand with confusion painting her expression before timidly reaching out and shaking Rory’s hand. Rory lets her confidence take over and lifts the other girl’s hand to her face, kissing it politely. The other girl’s face flushes red, and she pulls her hand away. Rory laughs, but she is absolutely freaking out internally.

“What’s your name, then?” Rory asks, still smiling.

“Holland,” the other girl, Holland, mutters.

Rory raises her eyebrows. “Are you from Holland?”

“No…”

“Ah. I’m terribly disappointed.”

Holland seems to shrink slightly, and Rory is quick to clarify.

“I was joking, it’s cool. I like your name.”

Holland gives a meek smile, and Rory looks for something to fill the awkward silence.

“I, uh, saw you around and thought you looked interesting. Can we be friends?”

Holland blinks, surprised. “Sure, yeah.”

“Awesome!” Rory lights up, and she can’t help but smile wider when Holland gives her a genuine smile, teeth and everything. “Here, put your number in my phone.” She hands her phone to Holland, who carefully types out her name and number. When Rory gets her phone back, she noticed that Holland had put a mouse emoji after her name. Rory chuckles. “We should probably get to class now. I’ll see you around!” Rory really, really wants to hug Holland, but she knows that they aren’t close enough yet. Hugs are probably the best thing in Rory’s life. Instead, she puts her hand on Holland’s shoulder and flashes her a grin before turning and walking to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet. i hope i can make the characters interesting,,


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo originally holland's contact name had a mouse emoji after it but it was messing up the chapter so i had to take it out. sorry yall

She can’t help herself, really.

As soon as Rory gets into class and sits down, she pulls out her phone and starts wondering what she should send to Holland. Her introduction was a bit too energetic and forward, which was something she would want to avoid nowadays, but it didn’t seem like it annoyed Holland all that much. Rory knows that other people consider her way of making friends annoying and excessive, but Rory honestly couldn’t care less. She gets out her phone and starts typing out a simple message.

_To: Holland Auber_  
“ _Hi mouse girl!! Is it okay if I call u that? Im in class but not really paying attention >.< you should come over after school if u want!_”

Rory looks it over carefully before sending it and putting her phone away, trying her best to pay attention for the rest of the lesson.

After what feels like twenty years of listening to her teacher drone on and on about how her relationship is going, the bell rings and Rory hurries out into the hallway and checks her phone. No notifications. She opens her messenger app and sees that Holland hadn’t opened the message yet. She deflates slightly, but puts her phone back into her pocket and goes about the rest of her day.

Halfway through the day, Rory’s phone buzzes and she whips it out of her pocket so fast that she almost drops it. She unlocks it and checks her messages, silently cheering in her head.

_From: Holland Auber  
“Hi :) I’ll ask my parents if I can come over today, but they’ll probably want to meet you. Also it’s okay to call me mouse girl haha, I kind of act like a mouse so I thought it was fitting. :)”_

_To: Mouse gurl  
“Awesome! Can I meet u by the bike rack outside?”_

_From: Mouse gurl  
“Sure. My parents will probably let me hang out with you today, but if we want to hang out more they’re going to really want to meet you. Can you come over this weekend for dinner?”_

Rory is gawking at her phone by now. She’s being invited over for dinner already?

_To: Mouse gurl  
“Yeah, that sounds great!!_

Rory continues on with the rest of her day, thrilled about this afternoon. School finally ends, and Rory runs to the bike rack, waiting and looking around. She hears her name timidly being called and looks up to see Holland walking towards her, a shy and unsure smile on her face. Rory can’t help but do a little jump, ecstatic that Holland had actually given her a chance.

“You seem uppity,” Holland comments quietly as she makes her way over.

“I’m always uppity!” Rory responds. “Here, let’s go to my apartment! Is it okay if we take the bus?”

Holland shifts slightly. “I guess… I’ve never been on a bus before,” she admits.

“It’s not that scary,” Rory assures her before grabbing Holland’s hand and walking to the bus stop.

Rory can’t help but notice that on the way to the bus stop, Holland slips her hand out of Rory’s to nervously tuck her long hair behind her ears. She doesn’t reach back for Rory’s hand after that.

The two make it to the bus stop just as the bus arrives, Rory pulling out a bag of quarters and paying for the both of them, which is met with a lot of protest from Holland. Rory dismisses it and walks over to one of the bars hanging from the ceiling of the bus, grabbing onto it without a second thought. Holland, however, hesitates and looks nervously between her hand and the bar.

“What’s up?” Rory asks.

“Aren’t buses full of germs?” Holland whispers. “I don’t want to get sick. What if the bar’s sticky?”

Rory can’t help but laugh. “It’s not gonna be sticky… Probably. Besides, as long as you wash your hands when we get to my house, you’ll be fine.”

Holland still looks uncomfortable, so Rory thinks for a second before looping her arm around Holland’s waist and pulling her against her side. Holland startles and immediately pulls herself away, grabbing onto one of the bars on the wall a couple feet away from Rory. Yeah, Rory can’t ignore that sinking feeling in her stomach.

The short walk from the bus to Rory’s house is tense, needless to say. Holland keeps her distance, her lips pursed and her steps quick. Rory struggles to keep up with her.

“Um,” Rory doesn’t think the words over until after they leave her mouth. “Wait up a little, you don’t even know where you’re going…”

Holland’s expression tightens and she stops walking, allowing Rory to lead. Rory tries to relax the pace, desperately trying to think of something to say.

“Sorry for… that, earlier,” she manages. “I’ve been told I joke around a bit too much.”

Holland sighs, a little bit of the tension in her shoulders relaxing. “It’s okay.”

“I hope I didn’t make you too uncomfortable,” Rory says quietly.

“It’s fine,” Holland replies. 

Rory decides to shut her mouth until they get to the apartment. Her excitement hasn’t dwindled, but anxiety is starting to rise in her stomach and drown out her optimism. She takes a deep breath and looks over at Holland, smiling at how timid she is as she walks. Yeah, Rory can do this.

Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't gonna be easy folks


End file.
